#six x reader

RYLAND GRACE (Yandere):

After being kidnapped and being thrown into space for years, that whole event fucked him in the head. Truly, he still has awful PTSD and night terrors. He has been clingy to his brothers, especially his twin brother. He has lived with him ever since he returned, and even if he has all the money of the world (do you believe they will leave him penniless after doing that?), he still teaches for fun).

He tried dating men and women, and they all agree he is way too creepy, what's wrong with him taking care of them, can't he not use trackers to know where they are now? What's wrong in securing they would not leave him? What is wrong with those things? He saves the stars, does he deserve a little more consideration? Maybe? He would not ask it directly, he would let his conditions be known.

LARS LINDSTROM (Primal):

He loves the forest, he loves chopping wood, he loves taking care of others; and he is desperately still a virgin. After his delusional episode of buying a sex doll and treating her like she was real, people were too nice with him, but after that he decided to move out with his brothers when their grandad passed; they did know about the episode. After he returned with them, he didn't want to bother them, specially after Ryland got kidnapped into space. He just shoved his problems into a corner.

He tried a relationship with Margo, but it didn't work out when he had the courage to tell her his fantasies. She broke up with him, telling him that he was weird and a closeted savage. That wounded him deeply, he has a hard time opening to people, getting closer, he knows he is unhinged deep down; but else would he let go those fantasies for?

HENRY LETHAM (Stalking/Vouyerism):

He is still staying in college using grandpa’s inheritance money (they are all using it in their own way), but this summer break, he decided to save a few extra bucks and live with his siblings and others… After he battled a whole semester with severe mental illness and a suicidal attempt, he didn’t realize how much he truly missed them. Deep down, he holds a little grip against Ryland, who he took all the pity award and attention, everyone had their own fucked up stories, and he is the only one deserving of love, pep talks and hugs? Fuck them! He is closer to Lars, he is the only one he can actually talk about his mental illness, and how he now sees a psychiatrist, he always waits for his appointments; he knew about his delusion incident, and he hates himself for not being there for him.

But, in the big city, he learned sketching fast, and peeking into nude people isn't a big deal or hard in New York City. He became quick to find ways to stalk girls he likes. He collected pictures of girls and before returning home, he burned them all, shameful as he felt at the idea of his brothers knowing about it, he noticed he is not that fucked up compared to them… that's not a compliment.

He is also into voyeurism, it is so easy, and in the big asphalt jungle, people don't care, neither does he. Henry cannot find many girls or either boys who would like to do it, he has done it a couple of times, the best sex he ever had so far was when he got railed on a couch surrounded by a whole bunch of people at a party; the guy who he hooked up with assured him he knew the host, so he has nothing to care. Back at school, people look at him weird, obviously.

SIERRA SIX (Age play):

He knows what people and society think about old men like him liking women in their twenties. He dated women his age, and he is cool with it. But there is an intoxicating feeling when he fucks women who think his taste in music is vintage. He doesn't feel great about their lack of experience; he actually gets really bored with those details. He rejoices just in the fact that he can be called an authority figure.

He actually envies his brother Grace that he is an actual teacher, he has a credential to be called teacher in a role play, but he has to pretend to be one (he actually sucks as a teacher, he is way too brutal), he envies his touch and that softness. Ryland could have anyone he ever wanted, if he wasn't such a creep. He heard the rumours, he isn't mad at him, he is damn aware the insanity gene is a rule, not an exception, and he blames his old man for that.

Six knew he had a serious problem when he realized he watches a shit ton of porn with 'Stepfather fucks his bratty stepdaughter' kind of titles, he is disgusted of himself AND THE TITLES ARE DUMB AS FUCK, but… he can't let it go.

COLT SEAVERS (Cockolding):

He knows he is a hardcore simp, or that's what his brothers make fun of him, but they are all the same, but they do it differently. Still, his past relationship with Jody didn't work out because he asked her to let him watch while she fucked someone else, just the idea of someone else fucking his partner makes him go bad insane.

It is a process, a circle, if you may, he discovered with his twin brother. Firstly, it comes jealousy, then it develops into a slight rage that consumes him until he finally gets into arousal. Possiveness can come after: his partner is done, he is more possessive of their feelings. He holds them tight, not letting them go for days, he can be with them all the time, gripping on them like if he is their shadow.

One day, his twin brother came earlier of what he expected from home, and he just saw them fucking in the couch, that's how the gruesome fantasy came into him that afternoon. Just the idea of watching his twin brother fuck his partner made him come so fast, he felt bad he came first. He obviously compensated for that, but he is way too ashamed to even try to tell that to Grace.

HOLLAND MARCH (Sadism/Masochism):

He doesn't like pain at all, he is just to it, but still: not into it. Otherwise, he is a big fan of provoking pain to others. He discovered that when a girl asked him to spank her, and that just turned into getting into BDSM groups. 

March is sadist, he had accepted that long ago. He is into it, because that's the only way he can give back all that mistreatment he had growing up with his father, the way his friends and others use him as a punching bag; is cathartic. 

He took a full course for ‘Shibari’, he still sucks tho, but at least he can make basic knots. There is something truly magical about immobilizing his partners. 

He absolutely loves taming, he doesn't like brats, he is more into girls who are actually trained to kill him. He loves the fight!! 

KEN (Exhibitionism):

In Barbie Land, nobody cares about modesty or, literally, anything. Now he has to confront the real world, he helps his new cousin, Driver, with cars. He really doesn't like cars, they are so complicated and dirty! But he is the only one who has given him a job.

He is fully aware he is hot, he knows a lot of people like how his muscles are marked and how well dressed he is. How could he know clothing is not free? Driver has taken him out of jail more times he can count, and inside those times he discovered that he was into it. He likes when people notice he is naked. He likes when people get turned on by looking at him. Masturbate with him, looking into each other's eyes.

He is perfect, and the world has already confirmed that he is, no matter what he is wearing or not.

DRIVER (Kidnapping):

He doesn't want to end up like his little brothers; they are fucking idiots. He doesn't. But there is something so fucked up in this bloodline, because he isn't normal either.

He follows girls and stalks their life, hoping he would get the perfect timing. He has the physical ability, and the knowledge on how to make a perfect cage. The only issue is that kidnapping is a full time job, an expensive hobbie, and not a long term plan. What would he do if the girl doesn't fall in love with him? That would be a problem.

Still, his deep and dark fantasies of taking someone else into the pits of darkness with him still always make him cum so hard his legs shake for ten straight minutes.—-----—-------—------—----------------------------------------------------------------------

Holland is actually the first one who said hi to you when he saw you passing to your home; they are still moving (and fighting over who gets what room like little girls!), and he was the one that noticed you and who said: “Did you see the hot neighbour we have?” He asked almost to himself; he would have NEVER GUESSED that every single one of his siblings and his lame ass cousins would go and peek over, and collectively fucking agreed, when they cannot agree on who washes the dishes next!

Six tries to look cold and distant, there is a big, fat chance he is still lying to himself that he is not into you after he had that lovely, short talk the other day, and not lose his shit after you called him ‘Sir’; you were very passionate about your garden; and he can tell you are, because he chose the window that looks directly towards your home, just to jerk off when you step out to water your plants, using your cute pjs on. He needs to be an example to his siblings because Holland isn't, he is drunk 70% of the time (he couldn't care less if he ends up getting the prize first, he is not going to say sorry for you having good taste in choosing him. And also, because you are the epitome of what actually his type looks like, so… not sorry).

Ken started yapping about how hot your tits are and detailing every curve in almost every meal (Lars is the official cook, no discussions). “And I heard in a podcast that she should be on our knees if we keep being cold to her. 50/50, bro,” said Ken directly to Ryland because he is the only one who is nice, he doenst mock him, and actually hear him without rolling his eyes. “What the fuck is 50/50?” Asked. Holland to get rum for his coffee, he knows he is an old soul, but he cannot keep up with today's kids' bullshit. “A belief made by men who don't bone, that they deserve only pay 50% of things in a relationship,” answered Henry, still looking at his flip phone over the couch (he refuses to buy a smartphone). “Hey dude, not cool. We deserve things too, it's just being fair,” said Ken with his chin up. There was a long moment of tense silence, until it broke down by the most unexpected voice. “Grandpa made this house for Grandma with his bare hands alone,” said Driver. “Fuck, sometimes I forget that little detail…” said Colt with his eyebrows up, it is true that all the descendants is now living under the same roof Grandpa built all alone, is astonishing for saying the least. “He was a real fucking man,” said Six, raising his coffee mixed with rum, Holland prepared for him too, in honour to their old man. Just for all to chime: Amen!

Ryland is the only one who could have a nice and durable talk with you (he is a good actor, teaching has made him learn important survival skills, obviously), it's summer, they don't have functioning AC, so Driver and him are finding ways on how to make cheaper AC’s without third parties who would charge them a shit ton amount of money (Ryland could easily buy a central AC without blinking, but he likes the challenge and the creative process. None of his brothers know about his money, they all think they didn't pay him at all after the mission, and they still insisit him to demand them), and you were casually there, peeking at them with those curious pair of eyes, so he finally took the chance to talk with their next door baddie. “Nah, I'm just calculating the amount of materials we would need to refrigerate all the house, nothing important,” he said, brushing off that he is flexing that he is smart, Driver keeps working in silence as he shoots hate stares eventually. “It's a big house, you might wanna create a natural electrical generator because the electric bill would be…” You tilt your head, you didn't want to say they are poor or anything, but you know they inherited the house, and eight guys living in a same house doesn't scream: 'We have big bank accounts!' but you don't mind, you work with any kind of man in the club; pretty and fun are a rare species, but kind, funny and pretty is like living beside a unicorn villa, you get used to how loud they are, some days you just want to pretend you are reading on the porch and stare at the comedic cabaret show they always perform. It's never boring being near them. Driver and Grace turned their heads to each other and went… ‘Fuck’ (they did manage to create solar panels with cheap materials, it can hold for now, but they cannot take another night without AC, Lars is starting to get cheeky and rude, which that's disturbing to appreciate…).

Colt is the dude who kicks balls, throws random shit on your lane or your backyard just to have an excuse to talk to you (or hit first). His twin doesn't get it. Well, this time, Colt tried to flirt with you over his face, and he was just standing behind him and decided violence. “I went to space for a cure, to the stars, did you know that?” He said, making you lose your shit. “I was a stuntman in that Dune movie,” he is desperate, but he can see in your face that he is losing against his dork ass brother.

You go out to run every morning. Outside in the park next to the forest, you always find Lars on a bench. You know who he is: the softest and cutest looking sibling of them all. You always wave good morning, no matter if you don't receive a wave back. Little that you know, that inside Lars mind, it hides something else. Lars loves watching you run, picturing the same scene over and over: him running into you and fuck you in the forest ground after catching your pretty little ass. He doesn't like thinking about those fantasies, but holy mother of God! He salivates to do it, thank God nobody knows about it (actually, Henry noticed his little brother's strange behaviour, so he started sitting next to him a few mornings, and there is when he knew his brother was a freak too). “You shouldn't be creeping on a stranger,” said Henry, knowing he is a hypocrite, smoking his college student special course breakfast. “Say a word and I will hand her all those nude sketches you make of her,” said Lars with a cheeky, adorable smile, Henry doesn't know how he got into his drawings, but he is grateful that Lars knew. He strangely doesn't feel threatened by him, but he stays to watch their hot neighbour.

Henry doesn't draw without references; he can't draw without them. So he hasn't told anybody; he sneaks out of your house to peek if he can catch you naked. He had, but very and awfully little amount of times. He could make his precious drawings, he could create a few interesting poses you make, and imagine the nakedness so he can picture it on the paper. He wishes he could buy a safe deposit box, so he could put these drawings there. He is not an idiot, not to notice their siblings' strange behaviour towards the same woman (that they casually know very little about, she has told Six that you work as a cashier in a supermarket, but you only go out at night to work). They would stab each other for them, they have done it for less.

Driver follows you around; he was actually the one who discovered that you worked as a stripper. He has a deep respect for sex workers, he has been very close to them because in every apartment he ever has been, there is always one or two, and also his father always brings a new one home when he was a kid. He grew up surrounded by; he knows how hard that world is and how harmful it is. His protective instincts fired through the roof. “I passed by the market, and she said she was working, and the cashier told me she had never heard of her,” said Ryland with a pout. “Maybe you get the wrong market,” said Colt, still chewing his food, Lars never misses with the meals, he could open a restaurant if he wants to. “It's because she is a stripper,” said Driver, looking at Ryland directly in the eye, he is not the only stalking follower in the family. Everyone stared at each other in silence, like expecting someone to say or dare to give an opinion about your line of work. “Do you have something to say, you heard from your male podcasts?” asked Six to Ken, he is just happy someone considered his opinion ever. “No, I stopped hearing them,” he just answered with a full mouth. “Why?” asked Lars, still using the pink tablecloth he bought, not very manly, but is very effective. He holds on to his sweaters and clothing like they cost a million dollars. “I don't want to hear life or women's advice from men uglier than me,” Ken simply responded, as if the answer was right under his nose. “You know something, that's the smartest thing I have ever heard you say,” said March, and that's the closest to him to give a compliment.

Driver would be there, fixing a car, when you exit and enter your house. He doesn't like missing your silhouette, or the little talks you make to him, you are so nice to them, all of them; sometimes, he hates it that you are fair to all of them. He wants you completely, he can't deny that desire. “So, you and Ken are siblings, right?” You asked, while you keep watching him work (he is actually trying so hard not to look up at your legs, using that short skirt, he is slowly losing his mind). “No, we are cousins,” he responds, he hates being so dry sometimes. “So you are like older than him?” You asked, you have nothing better to do all day, and he is wearing a very tight shirt that makes him see his huge tits. “Actually …I don't know,” he just said, he has never asked him that. “What do you mean, you don't know?” You asked, naively. “Actually, we don't know where he came from, he just appeared one day after they returned Ryland,” he said like he was just mentioning a Wednesday. “Who returned them?” You asked, alarmed. “Uhm… NASA, or something like that, and a bunch of guys with suits who work in a toy factory. It was a weird day.” Nothing he said made a lick of sense.

Nobody would suspect Ryland was the one who got the idea of invading your house, it's so easy opening doors. He just needs something with your smell, a piece of clothing, and see your house (for science purposes, of course! Because how can he calculate the compatibility if he can't have your full attention for himself?), Driver discovered him. “Oh shit! You scared me! What are you doing?” he said, trying to fake being casual. Driver, in his intimidating and stoic form, he didn't move, with his hands still inside his jacket pockets. “I would make a copy of the keys if you take a pair of panties for me,” he said. That's a weird way to connect with his cousin, but he just agreed. They just took the little secret for themselves (or that's what they thought, Lars and Henry started to get inside your house, and one would have naps on your bed, or others would start reading your books or checking what are you watching on your TV, just drinking every domestic thing you do).

The older siblings were way too tempted to get into the club you were working (Ryland, Driver, Lars and Henry were too busy invading your house, and sometimes they help you clean it without being way too suspicious. Ken is actually so oblivious of what is happening, because where the fuck is everyone??). “So, what did you study in college?” Six asked you, he is way too interested in those details, Holland was still asking for more Margaritas and a Bloody Mary for Colt. “I did actually graduate as film director,” you said, and there was a glorious smile on Colt’s face he wanted to punch. “I'm a stunman, maybe you can hire me when you make a movie,” said Colt, getting closer to her, ignoring his bloody Mary so Holland drank it. “Driver is also a stunt,” he said, making Holland turn into him with two raised eyebrows, ‘Fuck you,’ he said directly in silence. You are actually still processing that you couldn't make any movies because of your shitty ex boyfriend who ruined your career. But you are still saving money for making an indie movie, so maybe having two handy stunts was incredibly helpful. They actually paid for an individual dance, each one (they would not recover financially after getting in the club, and they don't care). The only one who made a little talk was Six. “So… why didn't you continue making movies?” he asked, trying to hold every fibre of his being not to assault you while your bubbly ass is rubbing on his crotch. “Life gets hard, what do you do?” you asked, while you dry humps him, locking their eyes together, his dick is hard as frozen stone and he cannot touch her. “I'm a body guard,” he responded, holding a groan. That's the easiest he could respond, rather than 'I just to be a hitman and a spy, but the same company I work for tried to kill me, and now I try to be normal'. “You didn't need to choose me because we are neighbours, you know, there are better girls around.” You said it was true; there was a deep part of you that desired they did actually tip and paid your dances because they might find you attractive, but they are really nice guys. They must have found themselves in the responsibility of being nice, just because they stumbled on your work. “You always gave us great ideas, and we would never forget when you shared the wifi password,” answered Six. It was true, you have helped them in significant ways. But he didn't want to be a creepy old man and say that he and his siblings would have given every penny for you to let them do something more than just a dance.

They didn't tell his younger siblings they visited you at the club, and that you danced for them. They are all in a silent war against the other. Until Driver, who just took the opportunity of kidnapping you in your house, he has the keys, and he asked Ryland if he can make chloroform. “Why would you need chloroform?” he asked questionably, undisturbed by his ask, but he did it anyway. And now you are tied up, shaking like a leaf in the garage, not knowing what the fuck is going on. “Hey, have you seen the hottie neighbour? I haven't seen her all day,” asked Colt at lunch, you have been in the garage alone for eight hours. “Maybe she is way too tired for work,” explained Ryland, he is weirded out too, but he really doesn't want to think of the worst. “She didn't water her garden this morning,” said Six, pointing out the fact he couldn't jerk off that same morning. “She is in the garage,” said Driver, unbothered, they turned up to him with big frowns and went: what?

You weren't exactly calm when they finally arrived in the garage, but being tied up, sweaty and alone in the dark isn't funny. So, you were kind of glad to see them. By the look on their faces, you can assume none of them, rather than Driver, knew about the plan. “She looks hot, tied up,” said Holland, breaking the ice, exploding with annoyed groans for the rest. “That's the fucking issue!” shouts Henry, pointing at you. “At— at least let's take the tape out of her mouth…” said Ryland, getting closer to take the painful tape out. “Is this some kind of play or something?” You try to stay positive. Lars just answered with a shaking head blinking like crazy, Six just buried his face over his hands and painfully groaned. “We are all going to jail…” he said. “You can start giving us tips,” said Holland, he was the only one laughing, the others just stared immensely tense. “I mean, the majority has been in jail at least once,” said Colt, trying to rationalize everything, that's supposed to be his brother's job. “I haven’t…” said Lars, Henry and Ryland. “It's going to be so fun!” said Ken, jumping. “Ok, can I ask why he went to jail?” You asked, looking at Six, interested at what kind of crime they committed, let's see what your future may look like. “He killed Dad,” said Holland, he couldn't care less. “He WHAT!” you shriek. “Don't worry, he had it coming, or that's what they told me,” said Ken with a happy face. “Not helping,” said Henry grimly. “Then why not leave the genius, solve his own problem? He is the one who kidnapped her!” Holland shouts, pointing at Driver, who didn't flinch; he barely moves, is disturbing. “He is family,” said Six, touching his temple. “Can I be family? That would let me live?” You asked, anxious as a rabbit touching the jaws of the wolves over it's body. “We can let her go, but we don't need to kill her, right? You are such a good girl, of course you are, just look at you!” Said Holland, like the devil’s advocate, you just nod, ignoring how stupid you may look following Holland’s usual buffoonery. “It's not that easy,” said the twins at the same time, if they were irritated, now it was worse. “Then let's make a vote?” Said March, raising his hand to the air. “We can vote here?” Whispered Ken, looking who can answer that, in Barbieland the only ones voting were Barbies, Henry is so fucking DONE with this guy. “Let's make a vote, if you want to kill her, raise your hand,” he said, only Six raised his hand, Driver shakes his head judgingly. “Now, raise your hand if you want to keep the hot looking neighbour alive, and she just needs to be peacefully kept here with us,” he said, raising his hand with the rest of the family. “Can I vote too?” You asked. “We are not that progressive in this household, darling, I'm so sorry,” answered March in a quick turn, looking at you. You want to kick everyone's balls. Six just surrendered. “It is what it is…” he sighed and let his arms slop on his jeans. “We can let her sleep in that room in the basement for now, you will manage to put the locks on the door,” he said to Driver, who just smiled and walked out, not hiding his immense boner under his pants!

You didn't scream, shout or complain; they were actually very gentle, and even if you were still shaking, fear is a very natural feeling after eight guys just tied you up and locked you in a room. The room was nice, it had a tiny window for the sun to pour in, and after tasting the first plate of food, you were actually liking being here… Lars watches you eat the whole time, he cooks amazing!

“Why did you kidnap her anyway?” asked Six. To Driver, he just shrugged. “We can take better care of her, I don't like other men paying her for her body,” he said, still making an ankle beeper, he doesn't want you to stay inside the room forever. And you know something? He was right. “She charges way too fucking cheap for dances,” said March, realizing he has made a mistake, he is drunk, he wants to punch himself anyway. “How do you know that?” Ryland hesitated. “It's a cheap strip club,” defended Six, and that's how he knew. “You were there!” He shouts with a volcanic rage still brewing inside like acid. “Colt paid for an individual dance, too!” said Holland, hiding behind Six. “Motherfuck—!” Ryland was ready to jump against Colt, he had no defense against his trespasses. “Me, Ryland, Henry and Lars, we have been walking around her house for months, and Henry makes amazing nude drawings of her,” said Driver, serene, the storm building in the living room stopped in a slap. “Wait, why haven't I been invited to any of this?” asked Ken, it's rare when he feels so offended, but this was too much. “Can I see them?” asked Holland, peeking out of Six shoulder, Henry just smiled at him. “Sure,” he didn't mind, now that there is a big, high possibility that he can finally have more chances to draw her actually nude.

The kidnapping is the best thing that ever happened to them.

I'm actually going to make part 2 because this is getting way too long, part two would be the domestic life of you being their prisoner, and obviously the unhinged smut. 

Can you notice I grew up loving ‘Brothers Conflict’? ¡AHA!

But still, hear me out, Rosa from 'Brooklyn 99' is Drivers variant. 

Also. Does anybody knows why the fuck is every big author in here clarifying they don't use AI in their fics? What was the canon event that provoked this? What the fuck did it missed??? (I loathe AI you have no idea btw).

STILL, IM SUPER OPEN TO REQUESTS, IF YOU HAVE DIRTY THOUGHTS YOU WANT TO SHARE WITH ME I WOULD READ, IF YOU HAVE IDEAS I WILL ADD THEM, IF YOU HAVE COMPLAINTS I WOULD HEAR YOU POOKIES!!!

STAY FREAKY AHHHH

This is how I actually felt writting this HAHAHAH:

Tagging:

"Be.. fucking...quiet," Court warns with a low groan, "you've been way too loud tonight."

"I...I'm trying not to be, god... 'm sorry, it's just so good," you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the large expanse of his back. 

Despite his words, Court thrusts into you at such a punishing pace that the bed frame is hitting the wall with a low thud. The lewd sounds caused by his hips snapping into yours fill the room. The mixture of your combined heavy breathing along with your admittedly noisy moaning are definitely disturbing a few neighbors.

"Do you want everyone to know how I fuck you just right...?" Court whispers, voice gruff as he watches the pleasure ever so apparent on your beautiful face. "Tell me."

“Nno.. I'm so embarrassing,” you breathe, more moans slipping out of your plush lips as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Mmm.. not at all, sweetheart, every sound out of you makes me wanna ram into you harder.”

As if to prove his point, Court does exactly that which elicits noises of delight from you both.

“That’s right.. You take it so so well.”

Every filthy phrase out of his mouth causes your core to pulsate even more as if he isn't only pulling you apart with his cock, but that sinful mouth too. Court doesn’t play fair and uses every method at his disposal when it comes to making you feel good.

You can't think, can't comprehend anything but the way Court slides in and out of you like he was made for you. No other experience measures up to the earth-shattering pleasure he always gives you.

Eyes opening, you peek up at your partner to see his deep blues already on you. His large hands are holding the bedframe to fuck you properly and as your gaze travels over his broad shoulders to the multitude of scars, you feel so lucky.

"Too..mm… much, but .. need hnnn more,” you whine.

Your moans are more frantic now, the erotic music of your bodies moving louder too.

"You're such a desperate little thing for my cock, aren't you? Can't control that pretty voice of yours a bit when we fuck."

"I-I can.." you protest weakly.

“Really? Show me, baby.”

Unable to ignore the challenge in his voice, you bring a shaky hand up and press it against your own mouth.

Court narrows his eyes and immediately adjusts his technique in response. He sits up, pulls your legs up so they’re slung over his shoulders, and fucks into you from a new angle.

The new sensation caused by the way his cock is now reaching even deeper inside your pussy causes a sharp gasp to escape. The hand that is supposed to prove you can shush switches to grip the satin sheets under you desperately.

“C-Court, god!” You call out, chest heaving and body so overwhelmed by him.

“Good, always respond just how I like,” Court chuckles darkly. 

It’s not long after that Court doubles over with his climax and as you clutch onto him in absolute satisfaction…You know that the neighbors most assuredly know his name.

It's the next morning. You're in a huge rush; having woken up late and are not going to be on time to the monthly condo board meeting. As you hurriedly shut your door and lock it, the sound of another door opening across the hall makes you pause.

You don’t even have to look to know which neighbor it is. 

Refusing to give the man any satisfaction, you promptly lock your door and start walking down the hallway to the elevators. You keep a quick pace, but feel him easily fall into step next to you.

His presence causes you to swallow hard and adjust the purple turtleneck sweater you wear. It is the middle of summer, but after last night you suddenly feel very very cold.

“You made such a racket last night. I nearly called the police out of genuine concern,” Court's deep voice says.

“E-Exucse me, I’m sure I do not know what you mean, Courtland.”

“Must you always call me that?”

“As the condo board president, I address every resident by their proper name,” you snap.

“Right, must keep it professional at all times, hmm? I admire that about you."

You roll your eyes, lips pressed together. Court never misses a chance to tease you, damn him.

The two of you make it to the elevators and as you press the ‘up’ button, you steal a glance his way.

Court looks tediously handsome–as always–this morning in a black button down with gray slacks and much too expensive shoes. His dark brown hair is slicked back and as his cobalt eyes appraise you back, you spot a hickey peaking out just above his collar.

Heat flaring beneath your cheeks, you quickly look away. Memories of last night flood your brain causing heat to pool in your stomach and your legs to press together.

Unfortunately, Court has already noticed and as he brings his fingers up to gently brush against the love mark, he chuckles.

“Sorry, the partner I’m seeing can be quite possessive of me.”

“I-I don’t know if possessive is the right word.”

“Mhm. You know I’m wondering if you’ve received any of the noise complaints I submitted?”

“Any condo business will be discussed at the meeting.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled to hear your defense, sweetheart.”

Thankfully as if to save you, the elevator light flashes and as the silver metal doors open in response, you step in.

Unfortunately, so does Court. Whatever. You are going to hold your head high and ignore the troublesome man.

After selecting the correct floor, you stand as far from Court as you can, body stiff as a board. The apartments elevator system is old and seems to take forever.

You cannot let Court get to you. You repeat that in your head over and over. You're going to win, you won't break...

At least, you think until his deep voice speaks over the thick tension in the air.

“...God, I fucked you so good last night. I only regret that we got so swept away in the moment that I didn’t get a chance to taste you.”

Warmth spreads throughout your body at his persistent teasing and you let out a shaky sigh. “C-Court, please. I need to focus now. Can't this wait until tonight?"

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’re absolutely right. I'm being rather mean, aren't I? I guess I just got caught up remembering how I love to go down on you."

You almost break at that, a shiver going over you as your own memories appear in your mind.

Then there’s a brief moment of silence.

Court backs off, crossing his arms over his chest and not making another peep.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you try hard to not think about what Court just said. However, as the evocative images of you laid out across his bed whilst his head is between your legs fill your mind... You suddenly feel so hot and sweaty.

Tugging at the neck of your sweater, you huff, “Claire get off to school well this morning?”

Court nods.

“Mhm. It’s a long day to since she’s got one of her clubs to attend.”

“I see.”

Court glances at you, his lip twitching as he waits for you to process this.

“Well, I’m very late by now, I’m sure they went ahead and started without me...” you mumble.

“Yeah. They probably don’t even need you at this point.”

There’s another ding and the elevator finally opens to the correct floor. It is time to get off, but instead you shyly slid a glance Court’s way.

His heavy gaze is already on you, a smug look on his dashing face. You know he is practically daring you to step out onto the floor.

The goddamn tension in the air makes you let out a trembling breath and making a decisive choice, you have the elevator take the two of you back up.

The moment the doors close again, Court is on you, pinning you to the side of the wall. He brings one hand up to pull at your sweater and reveal the numerous hickeys hiding from his previous handiwork.

The groan of appreciation that leaves him causes anticipatory pleasure to shoot through your core.

“Fuck, baby, you really made me lose control last night.”

“Apparently, I’ll be wearing this for a week, Court! I only even own one like this.”

“Don’t fret, darling. I’ll go out and buy you a few more after lunch.”

You giggle as he presses a steamy kiss to your lips and throw your arms around his neck.

Sadly, you know that your presidency is not long for the world, yet as Court presses his growing bulge against you, all you can think is: Screw it.

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You tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes, opening the door more and as your vision gets more clearer, his scars, bruises and cuts become more prominent. “Work?” you mumbled, opening the front door bigger.

With hesitant step, Six steps into your apartment, his eyes immediately scanning for any and all types of threats, exits, entry points. It’s a muscle memory at this point. But his first thought was a bit out of character for him, the place smells like you, “Work.” he agreed.

He hasn’t been here a lot of times but never really takes the time to fully take it all in. The whole place embodies you. With trinkets, colourful wallpaper, pictures of families and friends, your textbook and papers scattered around the coffee table. Six suddenly feels out of place, this feels too personal. Too intimate.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed worriedly after closing the door, noticing the blood soaked shirt he’s wearing. “What the hell happened?” clipping your hair up, your brain finally catching up to the situation in hand. You hurriedly took the first aid kit from inside your cupboard, laying everything out in the open on top of the kitchen table.

He ignored your question, “I bought my own.” Six gruffly said, holding up a small white plastic bag.

You paid him no mind, “Sit.”

His eyebrows raised, not wanting to fight. “Yes ma’am.” he mumbled quietly, sitting on the chair near the dining table.

“Take off your shirt.”

His heart skipped a beat, feeling nervous under your sharp eyes, “What?”

You tilt your head and Six hates how his chest hurts at sight of you, so soft and sweet. “I can’t help if I cant see.” you stated obviously.

Six’s neck burns in embarrassment, he doesn’t get embarrassed. But you have the habit of breaking his habits. Groaning, he takes off his shirt in one single motion and toss it to on the floor. He’s starting to get frustrated at the effect you have on him.

You have to keep yourself from ogling at his insanely large biceps, the deep scars following the curve does nothing to keep your stare away, “Good.” you swallowed. “Is it this one?” your fingers lightly hovering over the fresh wound on his back.

“The one bleeding out? Yeah.” he quips.

You pinched his shoulders, “Watch the attitude.” you prepped everything that you could, “I’m disinfecting the wound, its gonna hurt.”

“Nothing I’m new to- UHM!” his words were cut short when the liquid make contact with his skin. “You gotta warn me next time.” his back flexed.

You hummed, way too focused on the task at hand to reply him. As the needle start to thread through his skin, Six has all the time in the world to continue to let his eyes wonder around your apartment.

“You have a lot of stuff.” he mumbles.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” he quickly said, eyes now straying to the big mirror that goes along your living room wall. He sees your figure in the reflection, noticing how your eyebrows furrow and how you but your lip in concentration. He continues to stare with droopy eyes, his tiredness finally catching up to him, “Sorry I woke you up.”

You softly sighed, finishing up the stitch and covering it with gauze. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before.”

Six’s lips quirked up, “I’ll treat you the muffin you like downstairs.” he straightened his back as you moved in front of him. His thighs parting instinctively to let you stand in between.

Letting out a small laugh, you swiftly moved to settle in between his thighs as if its second nature. A dampened cotton pad with anti-bacterial liquid on your right hand ready to take care of the cuts on his face.

His eyes softens, as you stood right in front of him, eyes lingering all over your face with a small smile on his lips. You smell nice.

You rested your left hand on his jaw, titling his head up. With him sitting on the chair and you standing, you finally gain a bit of height over him. He’s warm against your skin, rugged and completely relaxed.

He leans into your hold. You don’t even know he aware he’s doing it or not.

A burning sensation creeps up your neck at his calculated stare, warming up your cheeks as your heart pounds. His hands clenches on too of his thighs, like he’s holding himself back from bringing you closer.

The room falls into a peaceful hum with soft breaths and quiet movements. A routine of some sorts falls into place.

It was always like this with him, the number. You don’t even realise where the lines started to blur, and your friendship started to carry a heavier weight.

He never really tells you what he does, he says it’s for your own safety. You don’t know what to make of that.

“There, all done.” you softly smiled, looking at the cuts on his face that you cleaned up, “You’re back to being pretty.”

A snort made its way through Six’s nose, trying to ignore the way the back of his neck is now somehow warmer.

You moved to wash your hands, drying them on your shorts. Six follows your movements, his eyes now follows your thick thighs in your shorts.

He cleared his throat. Inappropriate. What a creep.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” he said, groaning as he slowly stood up.

“No problem.” you absentmindedly said, focusing on cleaning your medical supplies.

Six lingered behind you, the stealth of the agent making almost to no sound. But you know he’s there. His presence is obvious, taking up a big chunk in your apartment.

You turned around. Your eyes meet.

“You okay?”

He cleared his throat, “‘m fine.” a pause. “Thanks.”

You laugh, “You said that already.”

He nods, head turning downwards as he swallows his nerves. With fingers twitch on his sides, the need to reach out to you grew more constant.

He needs to get out.

“I’m gonna get out of your hair.” he walks to the front door, taking his bloody shirt on the way.

“Okay, number. Stay safe.”

He takes one last look to you, eyes trailing from your air to your legs and closed the door.

You sighed, back leaning against the door. The room felt lighter now, but the remnants of his cologne still lingering throughout the apartment. With droopy eyes, your exhaustion finally laid itself across your whole body as you drag yourself and flop down on the bed.

The next day when you were rushing to work because you overslept, a paper bag was left in front of your door, you favourite chocolate banana muffin safely tucked inside with a note.

Thank you my favourite doctor.

— Number

Your stomach flips as you stared at his door.

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